Chapter 5
I was so frazzled by Nana Jo’s call, I didn’t remember getting dressed. I should’ve been suspicious when I saw smirks on the faces of the policeman who tried to prevent my entry into the retirement village. However, I was focused. Eventually, I was admitted and walked to the security desk.
“I’m looking for my grandmother, Josephine Thomas.”
He stared for a second. The sides of his mouth twitched but he quickly contained them. “Down the hall and to the right, but—”
I was halfway down the hall and never caught the end of his sentence. When I got to the room, I looked through the window. Nana Jo and Detective Stinky Pitt were inside. I opened the door and went in without knocking.
“Nana Jo are you alright?” I hugged her. “I’ve been trying to call Jenna, but I keep getting sent to voice mail. Did you call her?”
“Mrs. Washington—”
“You better have a darned good reason for holding my grandmother, Detective Pitt. This is ridiculous. My grandmother wouldn’t kill anyone. Just because she threatened to kill her and is an excellent shot doesn’t mean she actually did.” I was rambling and pacing in the small office.
“Sam!” Nana Jo held my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “Stop. You’re going to get me hung if you keep talking.” She hugged me. “By the way, what’s that in your hair?”
“My hair?” I instinctively reached up and felt my hair and landed on a comb tangled in a bird’s nest of frizz. It took a bit of manipulation, but I got it out and stood holding a large-toothed blue comb. It must have gotten stuck when I was dressing. In my nervous state and haste, I’d apparently forgotten about it.
Nana Jo reached in her purse and pulled out a handkerchief, licked the corner, and then wiped under my eyes. “You’d better start removing your makeup before you go to bed, or you’ll regret it when you’re my age.”
Under normal conditions, having my grandmother spit clean me like a mother cat cleaned a kitten would have embarrassed me beyond belief. Whether as a result of the unusual circumstances, or sheer relief my grandmother appeared to have the situation in hand, I couldn’t say. Whatever the reason, I allowed myself to be cleaned up.
“Now, that’s better.” She handed me the handkerchief, which was stained with eyeliner and mascara, and patted my hair down.
“Are we done? May I continue my interview?” Stinky Pitt’s words dripped with sarcasm.
Detective Pitt was a short, fat, balding detective with a penchant for short, tight polyester clothing and an overabundance of cologne. He’d been labeled “Stinky Pitt” by his boyhood classmates. Nana Jo was his third grade teacher and enjoyed using the old nickname to annoy him whenever she could. I first encountered Detective Pitt several months ago when he accused me of murder. Needless to say, we weren’t exactly the best of friends.
Nana Jo and I sat down.
He turned to me. “You were saying your grandmother threatened the deceased?”
Heat rose up my neck and I knew I was blushing. I turned to Nana Jo. “I don’t think you should answer any questions without a lawyer.” I pulled out my cell phone and pushed my sister’s number for what felt like the thousandth time since Nana Jo called. “For some reason it keeps going to voice mail.”
“She and Tony are gone on their anniversary cruise. Remember?”
“Ugh. I totally forgot about that.” I put my phone down. “You could request a public defender, I suppose.”
“Mrs. Thomas has not been arrested.” He pounded the table. “We are merely taking her statement.” An angry red flame rose up Detective Pitt’s neck and a vein bulged on the side of his forehead.
The door swung open and Freddie Williams rushed inside. “Josephine, are you okay? I just heard about Maria.” He pulled Nana Jo to her feet and hugged her tightly.
Detective Pitt threw his pen into the air and pounded his notepad onto the desk. He rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat. “Do you mind? I’m trying to conduct an investigation.”
Freddie ignored everyone except Nana Jo. He pushed her away from him so he could stare into her eyes. “You know there was never anything between Maria and me. There has never been anyone else in my life once I met you.”
Nana Jo’s eyes filled with tears and she melted into Freddie’s arms. “Oh, Freddie. I’ve been such a fool. Of course I knew it. I knew it with my heart, but my head wouldn’t listen.” She pulled away and looked into his eyes. “Can you ever forgive me for doubting you?”
“Darling, there’s nothing to forgive.” He kissed her soundly. “I remembered you said your granddaughter was going on a cruise, so I took the liberty of calling my friend, Judge Ben Miller. He’s in River Bend.” He looked at his watch. “It’ll be about thirty minutes before he can get here, but he said don’t say one word until he does.”
Detective Pitt looked as though he would explode. “Judge Miller? What’s a judge going to do?” He ground his teeth. “She isn’t under arrest. I’m just taking her statement.”
“Well, she won’t be saying another word without legal counsel present.” Freddie kept a protective arm around Nana Jo’s shoulders.
Freddie was usually a very gentle, quiet man, but tonight he exuded an authoritative strength that was comforting. He was in his mid-seventies with white hair, which he kept cut short. He was a retired police detective and his son, Mark, was a state trooper. Nana Jo always said she liked the fact Freddie was taller than she was and still had all of his own teeth. The look in her eyes showed she was more serious about Freddie than she had ever admitted.
My grandmother was a strong woman. She was a smart, wise-cracking, sharpshooting, Aikido black belt. I never thought of her as needing protecting, but when she placed her head on Freddie’s shoulder, I glimpsed a vulnerability she rarely displayed.
“I just want to ask Mrs. Thomas a few questions,” Detective Pitt explained.
The door burst open and in walked Irma, Dorothy, and Ruby Mae.
“You okay? We just heard that crazy woman went and got herself killed,” Dorothy said.
“One of my sons is an attorney in Chicago.” Ruby Mae held up her cell phone. “I called him on the way downstairs. He’s not licensed to practice in Michigan, but he’ll be here in two hours if you need him. Just say the word.”
Irma coughed. “I used to date an attorney. He’s a bit of a leech, but I’d be willing to take one for the team if you need me to.” She coughed.
“Oh, good grief.” Detective Pitt stared at the crowd. “How many more people are coming down?” He pushed back his chair and stood in the tiny office. “Mrs. Thomas, I’ll need a statement from you. You and your posse can come downtown before noon.” He snatched his notepad off the desk, sidled through the crowd, opened the door, and walked out. “I’m done.”